Knit to say 'I love you'
by TechNomaNcer28
Summary: Sirius never found an answer as to why Remus's hands are always cold but he can definitely find a solution for it his own way.


**A/N** :This was a fic I wrote for the rssmallgifts on livejournal. The prompt was Sirius or Remus doing some DIY project and of course with a happy ending and lots of Christmassy,wintery ideas. :) Thanks to **_iamthecolorofboom_ ** once again for being a wonderful,quick beta. *kisses* I will write you a fic one day!

 **Title:** Knit to say 'I love you'  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Summary:** Sirius never found an answer as to why Remus's hands are always cold but he can definitely find a solution for it his own way.

* * *

Remus's hands have always been cold, even on days when the sun shone far too brightly and clothes stuck to skin if one didn't use a cooling charm. His fingers were also ridiculously too long for his palms. In fact, the first words Sirius had spoken to Remus had been—

 _"Why are your hands like that, Lupin? They're,"—Sirius proceeded to show his own hand to the feeble-looking boy beside him as the latter stirred the Forgetfulness Potion on their first day of class—"strange."_

 _"What's wrong with them?" Lupin dropped the stirrer and snatched his hand away with a look of discomfort. Now, Sirius had not meant to be rude, but when one grew up believing that anything different equaled wrong, well—it was really all his parents' fault._

 _"What's wrong with my hands?" Remus asked him in return as he surveyed Sirius's offered hand with interest. This was unexpected. So far people had shied away from Sirius, except for James Potter, who just took great pleasure in taunting Slytherins—not that Sirius blamed him when it involved a certain big-nosed git._

 _"Well, they're all,"—Sirius wiggled his own fingers at Lupin's face—"long. Spidery."_

 _What Lupin did next shocked him: he laughed. Well, it wasn't an outright laugh, more a low sound of amusement, but it immediately had Sirius putting on a face that would make his entire family proud of him. Did the shabby boy just laugh at him?_

 _"That's not good," the brown-haired boy replied, examining his fingers, "I'm not too fond of spiders."_

That encounter ended as quite a disaster. Remus had attributed his appalling potion-brewing skills to Sirius's little insult ever since.

Now, twenty four years later, Sirius found his eyes wandering to watch Remus stirring an unhealthy amount of sugar in his tea. Remus's fingers were still too long, but somewhere around their teenage years Sirius had stopped thinking of them as strange. They were more lined and scarred now, and he wondered if they were still as cold.

He didn't reach out as he once would have; they hadn't quite gotten around to discussing _that_ topic yet, which wasn't very difficult considering the state of the Wizarding World. Sirius's attention wavered between Remus and solving the muggle crossword book; there was sometimes just too much tension in the air whenever it was just the two of them, or maybe that was just in Sirius's head.

"Do you want to get Harry a present?" Sirius asked to break the somewhat uncomfortable silence. Remus looked at him and stopped stirring to place the spoon on the saucer. Sirius focused on the angled position of the spoon and reached out to straighten it, carefully avoiding brushing against Remus's hand that now rested on the table. He really wanted to know where they stood, apart from being friends. Remus eyed him critically.

"Do you even have to ask? Of course I do," Remus said, adding the last few words to ease the rebuking tone his voice had taken on unintentionally. Sirius didn't respond to that, instead seeming lost in thought for a few minutes while Remus sipped on his tea.

Would Remus take it as a sign of flirtation if he suggested giving Harry a joint present? Would he refuse? Sirius cleared his throat; he wasn't all that brave anymore when it came to Remus.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Sirius asked. "And don't tell me 'nothing'," he added as soon as Remus opened his mouth. The slightly cheeky smile he directed at Remus earned him a smile in return, and the atmosphere shifted to a relaxed one.

"What about you? What do _you_ want?"

"I asked first."

Remus smiled and then sighed.

"Come on, Remus, tell me."

"You'd probably make fun of me, and call me a sentimental fool," Remus warned him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and Sirius grinned.

"You are a sentimental fool, but I won't make fun of you," Sirius replied with such sincerity that Remus hid a slight flush as he continued to sip his slightly cooled tea. He stared at a spot on Sirius's collarbone.

"You've got crumbs," Remus pointed at Sirius's shirt and stood up, pushing his chair back. "I'm knackered, I think I'll have an early night." Sirius looked up at him from trying to find the non-existent crumbs and then rubbed the short overgrown scruff; things tended to get stuck in it somehow.

"Ah, all right. Night, Moony." Sirius realised his slip, and Remus seemed just as surprised to hear the old nickname.

"Night, Padfoot," he replied softly before leaving for his room. It wasn't until his footsteps faded that Sirius released the breath he hadn't even been aware of holding. He grinned, and then stopped, as he realised that he really was an idiot. " _Crumbs_ , my arse."

Remus certainly was still great at dodging questions; hopefully he was still just as good at dodging spells.

ooOOoo

Some days Sirius had a difficult time just trying to keep his hands off of Remus. It could be his bed-hair or just the sheer proximity of their bodies that set Sirius off. Of course that had often led to him being a moody host, sometimes insufferable enough for Remus to develop a frown, but now he had found a new way of combating his foul mood. He cleaned.

He would rid this house of every single thing that posed danger to anybody, and of course he wasn't doing this to distract himself from the fact that Dumbledore obviously thought he would just be a bloody nuisance. Of course. _Scrubscrub. Swishswish._

It was during one such cleaning spree that Sirius found _it_ in his mother's room, hidden away in her cupboard. _It_ being a mass of tangled yarn which of course piqued Sirius's interest because why would a hag like his mother have _yarn_ in her cupboard? He pulled this way and that for a few minutes only to stare down at the misshapen purple letter that could only be an 'S'. It looked like a misshapen bowl, or a tiny cap that fit two of his fingers easily—and then he saw it; it was a pair of unfinished baby shoes.

The implications of it made Sirius stash the jumbled, white yarn back inside the cupboard only to come back later that week and wonder how someone like his mother had obviously tried to knit without magic.

And how that same woman could have come to hate him so much.

Sirius began to clean his mother's room somewhat obsessively, so much that even Remus asked him about it and boy, was he glad he did. His triumph came as a result of him digging in his mother's cupboard where, with some magic, a small basket revealed itself. _Ah, extension charms are so handy_ , Sirius thought as he dug out its contents. Needles, long needles, hooks and— _Merlin's pants!_ —were these for taking out somebody's eyeballs? That would make more sense—a book on embroidery, another book— _ouch!_ —another bloody hook again, and more books.

Finally, as he flipped through one of the books, he knew just what he would get Remus for Christmas.

ooOOoo

The last time Sirius had focused on something so single-mindedly was two years ago. The rush of searching, learning, experimenting, and failing, but knowing that he was getting closer to solving and reaching the end of the mystery, had been such a long forgotten feeling that he had missed it to the point of almost wanting to relive the days after escaping Azkaban.

Almost.

"Sirius." The knock on the room's door jarred Sirius's attention back to the present, and he cursed as the knitting needle slipped. "It's almost time for dinner, can I come-?"

"No!" The door opened as Remus kept talking and Sirius rushed forwards, slamming the door on the other man's face. Shite! He grabbed the doorknob and let himself out and closed the door behind himself as he faced Remus, who had a bewildered expression on his face.

"What on—"

"Listen, Remus, you can't go inside." Sirius must have looked slightly mad, with his messy hair and the unattended scruff that had descended to a beard, because Remus looked alarmed.

"Sirius, is everything all right? You've been holed up in there for hours, please tell me you're not doing something illegal." Sirius had to smile at that. Of course that just probably made him look more sinister still; he really envied his younger self for his ability to pull off any look effortlessly.

"I'm not, honestly." Sirius knew Remus was burning to know, but his expression didn't show his curiosity. It would be worth it in the end… hopefully. "Just, don't disturb me when I'm working," he said seriously. Remus's face took on a hard expression before he smoothed it out.

"Of course. I'll send Kreacher when dinner's ready then." With that he turned around and stepped away, tension clear in his body. Sirius knew Remus, and his ability to read the man's body language had not waned—no amount of time could ever change that. He reached out.

"Moony." Sirius hadn't exactly thought it through before grabbing Remus's hand and now he couldn't let go of the cold fingers. He had longed for the contact for months now, but Remus didn't actually try to initiate contact, and when he did there was always a damned layer of cloth between them. He squeezed the rough palm and curled his fingers around Remus's, using up every ounce of courage he had. How were they freezing cold even when they were indoors?

"Don't send Kreacher," Sirius told him, keeping his voice lower than necessary, and if that made him sound suggestive, then fine. He stepped closer to Remus and resisted the urge to brush away the locks of hair falling over his left eye. "I didn't mean for it to sound that way. I just want it to be a surprise until Christmas." There, a hint, something for Remus to be puzzled about and anticipate. He couldn't very well let Remus doubt him for even the slightest thing, and really, watching Remus's confused face was one of life's greatest pleasures.

"A surprise?" Remus echoed, still not pulling away from Sirius's grasp. Sirius nodded and boldly rested his forehead against Remus's. The way his eyes widened had Sirius almost giving in and kissing the man, but he resisted.

"For you," he replied, voice going breathy unintentionally and then he stepped back with a grin. Remus wasn't all that immune after all. "Make sure you're surprised, all right?"

"Right. I'll even have the camera ready just for you," Remus told him and cut his gaze downwards at their hands. Sirius squeezed the fingers that had warmed slightly from the contact, and let go with some difficulty and renewed vigour at the same time. "Sirius—"

"I smell something burning, Moony," Sirius alerted Remus who _tsk_ -ed and hurried downstairs. Sirius chuckled for the first time in weeks and returned to his mother's bedroom. He looked at the yarn he had changed to a midnight blue—because that colour looked great on Remus—strewn all around his workspace.

Twenty one days to Christmas—he could do this.

ooOOoo

"I don't believe you."

"Sirius, this is why I didn't tell you earlier," Remus tried reasoning with the animagus, "I'm sorry it's so close to Christmas, but I'll be back before the eve." He placed a hand on Sirius's shoulder.

"Fuck off, Remus," Sirius said darkly as he shook off the gentle hand. Remus looked annoyed. Good for him. "It's always 'Dumbledore this', 'Dumbledore that'. You're such a bloody puppet."

"You're angry," Remus said simply, and Sirius rolled his eyes as he gulped down all of the alcohol in the glass and refilled it. "I should probably leave." Sirius slammed the glass down on the kitchen table, ignoring the dirty look Kreacher sent his way from near the stove; he didn't care if the useless elf was poisoning his food right now.

"Already? Aren't you supposed to meet the pack in three hours?" He licked his chapped lips. "Why the hurry, Remus? Can't wait to get back to your friends?"

Remus closed his eyes and breathed out. Let him get angry, anger was fine. Sirius could deal with it.

"You're not even fully drunk and you're like this." Remus clasped on his cloak and gripped his wand. "Please, Padfoot, I don't want to leave things on a bad note." It was the 'Please, Padfoot' that penetrated Sirius's skull, through all that haziness somehow, and he kicked one of the chairs as he stood up.

"Whatever, Remus. I'm sure you just miss having some decent company." He slammed the door on his way out just for the satisfaction and ignored the sharp spikes of remorse and pain trying to turn him humane again.

ooOOoo

Sirius laughed jovially as he passed the butter to Tonks during breakfast with Harry and the Weasleys, despite their reason for staying over in his house. The holiday cheer definitely did wonders for the dreary building. They would be opening presents soon and he wished Remus could have made it to see Harry open their joint gift.

The thought of Remus sent a sharp pain right into his heart, and he clenched a hand under the table as he thought about the hand-made and hand-wrapped present for Remus lying forlornly in his bedroom. He was ready to grovel for forgiveness if that's what it took this time. He would do it collectively for all the years Remus had forgiven him even when he hadn't deserved it.

"Wotcher, Remus!" Sirius's spoon clanged on his plate at Tonks's greeting, and he stared at Remus, whose cheeks were pink from the cold and his fingers nearly frostbitten no doubt as he greeted everyone around the table and finally sat down across Sirius, between Fred and Ginny.

"All right, Sirius?" he asked carefully, testing the waters. Sirius smiled at him which turned out to be the right thing to do judging by Remus's relief and answering upturned lips. It probably helped that he had finally tied his hair back and shaved the scratchy beard off. He would give Remus his present as soon as they got a second alone, Sirius decided as the others began opening their presents, and Harry looked interestedly at the book they had picked for him.

It wasn't until after everyone had gone to St. Mungo's that Sirius retrieved Remus's gift and looked for the man, who was nowhere to be found.

"Moony?" his loud voice reverberated in the empty house and he groaned quietly as his mother's portrait began screaming. Promptly, Remus came hurrying and they wordlessly made their way to Walburga Black's portrait.

"FILTH! SHAME OF MY-"

"Merry Christmas to you too," Sirius said sarcastically as they covered the monstrous thing again. "Crazy, old hag." It was strangely sad to realise that the woman who had knitted shoes for him had obviously been spirited away somewhere else a long time ago.

"Come into the drawing room with me for a bit," Remus told Sirius before he could say anything else, and swiftly walked away in that direction. Sirius followed and noticed the changes around the house. Molly had obviously cleaned to take her mind off things, and the results were great. No more elf heads on the walls and someone had strung up Christmas lights.

"Hey, Moony. What's in the—" Sirius stopped speaking as the door to the drawing room opened and his nose picked up on the scent of gingerbread and cinnamon, and he looked at the old piano with wide eyes. On top of the closed lid were two mugs, steam rising merrily, but what warmed Sirius was seeing the tiny gingerbread house sitting on the edge of his mug; Remus remembered.

"Moony," Sirius said in a shocked voice as he walked up to the recently-cleaned desk and picked up the mug of hot chocolate. He touched the corner of the roof on the delicate gingerbread house and couldn't help looking back over to Remus.

"You made these?" Remus nodded. "When? You came back today."

Remus scratched his chin, looking away. "Actually, I came back on Sunday. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I would be welcome—"

"That's idiotic, even for you, Remus," Sirius interrupted heatedly. Three days Remus had stayed away. Three days. "I was a complete arse to you when you left, and I've regretted it every day. I've tried to think of a way to—I'm sorry." Remus should not have been looking at him with such evident surprise, as Sirius had always tried to be a better person for those he loved. Seeing that expression on Remus's face at that moment sent a wave of shame through him.

"I wanted to have your present ready," Remus told him finally, and they smiled uncertainly at each other. "We should drink up before the chocolate gets cold."

After they finished their drink in amiable silence, Sirius nibbled on his decorated gingerbread house, and when he couldn't take it anymore, he thrust the wrapped present into Remus's hand.

"Merry Christmas, Moony."

Remus raised an eyebrow and unwrapped his present. His expression when he held up the pair of midnight-blue mittens was really something Sirius wanted to capture on a camera. "They glow in the dark," he told Remus, pointing at the tiny stars etched in the pattern of Canis Major on the palm of the right mitten.

"Something to remember you by?" Remus asked and Sirius hummed as he broke off a piece of the gingerbread, repressing a smile as he popped a gumdrop into his mouth.

"Is this what you were doing all that time upstairs? It's brilliant!" The compliment was so sudden that Sirius let out a surprised laugh and Remus flexed his fingers within his gift.

"They've got warming charms," Sirius informed him as Remus opened his mouth and promptly shut it again. They sat in silence for another few moments as Remus seemed to be absorbed in deep thought, while Sirius finished the gingerbread; delicious it may be, but he couldn't keep it around forever. He ran a hand through his now-manageable hair and traced patterns on his mug. Why was Remus so quiet?

"Thank you," Remus broke the silence finally and looked at Sirius. Sirius smiled and traced the lip of his mug.

"You used to do this, every Christmas since fifth year—"

"You laughed that time, remember?" Remus said. Sirius shrugged easily.

"I didn't know gingerbreads could taste that good. Besides, I was just trying not to show how turned on I was seeing you in an apron," he replied, baiting and waiting for Remus to take it. Remus stilled at that and then began tapping on their makeshift tabletop. Sirius did not want to dance around the topic of _them_ anymore, but he would wait if Remus needed time.

"I could still do this. Every year," Remus said so softly that Sirius thought he had imagined it, but then Remus's gloved hand was on his arm and Sirius looked up, hoping. "I got your bike back from Hagrid and fixed it up, so even Dumbledore won't know of your whereabouts. We could go to Australia after this—"

Sirius kissed him; kissed him soft and warm with a taste of cinnamon and Remus's response was better than anything he had imagined when he had drowned himself in whiskey and nostalgia.

"I'll make you a shawl next year," Sirius said as they separated for breath. Remus chuckled good-naturedly.

"I'll be sure to be surprised." Remus cleared his throat, "You know, Sirius, we really should start talking to each other more. All this guessing has never done us any good."

"You want to talk?" Sirius asked with genuine surprise, "When we could be doing this and that to each other?" Remus sighed and Sirius relented. "All right, we'll talk, but later."

"Nothing says 'I love you' like a good ol' roll in the hay, I suppose," Remus said dryly, expecting Sirius to agree, but the animagus shook his head.

"Not true," Sirius told him, and then leaned in as if sharing a secret. "I thought you knew—nothing says 'I love you' like a knitted present, Moony."

 _~The End~_


End file.
